


We Hide Within Our Veins

by missgoalie75



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Spy!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgoalie75/pseuds/missgoalie75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Allison just grimaces and throws back another shot of tequila. She's not sure if she's pissed because Stiles is probably committing the worst kind of treason right now, or pissed because he didn't bother to say goodbye to them.</i> || Spy!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Hide Within Our Veins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissLouisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLouisa/gifts).



> Spoilers, Warnings, Misc.: none; none; past Scott/Allison mentioned.
> 
> This is based on the "cop/delinquent AU" prompt, but I twisted it a bit - hopefully it's alright! 
> 
> The title is from "The Secret's In the Telling" by Dashboard Confessional. A dozen thank yous to K for being a lovely beta, as always!

The disappearance of "Sheriff" Stilinski has been a dark cloud hanging over the heads of the CIA for the past eighteen months: fifteen years of field work; he helped dismantle the criminal organization FTL, future director of the covert black-ops division…at least before his meeting with a contact in Nice, from which he never came back.

The investigation was short, not due to lack of trying; there's been _nothing_ to go from: no leads, no witnesses, and no forensic evidence to process.

The worst part about it is the fact that three months later, Stilinski's son, a _techie_ , went rogue, totally disappeared. Langley was _not_ impressed that ten of the brightest in tech support couldn't find a trace of Stiles, the same guy who couldn't exit his Jeep without tripping over himself.

"M'not surprised," Scott slurs while he and Allison are out to get plastered the day they find out. "He's been talkin'bout it for'while. Stupid. Didn'take it ser'sly."

Allison just grimaces and throws back another shot of tequila. She's not sure if she's pissed because Stiles is probably committing the worst kind of treason right now, or pissed because he didn't bother to say goodbye to them.

(He could've at least given Scott a head's up, being thick as thieves for so long; she knows nothing _actually_ happened between her and Stiles, but. (She can't think or speak about it, there's no point.))

The thing is they still _see_ Stiles from time to time; usually those intelligence-gathering missions end up being failures.

The first time it happened, they find Stiles already sitting in the office they've been trying to break into for the past five minutes, a memory stick in the computer and his hands (those stupidly nice hands) flying across the keyboard.

Scott's hold on his gun waivers when he realizes it's Stiles and she doesn't know why her hand remained on her thigh (how did she know it was a friend rather than a foe? (Is he still a friend?)).

They're all at a standstill for a few seconds before Stiles gives them a half grin. "Hey, guys." The computer pings and Stiles takes out the memory stick, tossing it to Allison, who automatically catches it. "There's your copy. You're welcome. Although don't go relying on me in the future."

Scott lowers his gun. "Stiles, we have to bring you in –"

Stiles immediately stops smiling. "No you don't. You're going to let me go." He nods at the memory stick in Allison's hands, which are trembling slightly. "That's CIA-issue. They don't have to know."

"How do you know we're not on comms?" Allison wishes it comes off as stronger, but it doesn't.

Stiles gives her a more genuine smile. "You and I both know this place is rigged up the wazoo – we'd have security up our asses right now if you were."

He walks out from behind the desk and cautiously makes his way past Scott, who is giving him the puppy eyes that haven't changed since she dated Scott in high school. She can't look at Stiles (or breathe) when he brushes past her.

"Are you getting anywhere?" she asks when he's standing in the doorway.

Stiles stops walking.

"Are you any closer to finding him than you were when you were with us?" She clenches her jaw and curls her hand holding the memory stick into a fist.

She closes her eyes when he walks away, his footsteps becoming silent once he leaves the room (who taught him _that_?).

They don't share that part of the mission.

**

The second time they see Stiles, however, Deaton's sister, who is stationed in France is there to witness it; she's the only one who can whip out a gun to try to take him down and Allison tries not to scream as a bullet whizzes past his ear.

When they're back in California, Deaton tears them apart for their hesitation, ordering them to bring him in the next time they see him. Alive, preferably – they want to question him, to figure out the extent of the damage he's done with the information he knows. But Deaton, looking wearier than ever, adds that if Stiles is so much as _seen_ with a criminal, he's to be taken out.

Deaton leaves them alone and Scott looks at Allison with tears in his eyes. _How can we kill Stiles?_  
  
She shakes her head minutely. _I don't know_.

(Except she dreams of taking him down a million different ways from that point on.)

**

She's alone on a mission in Barcelona when she sees him again, except she finds him fighting against security in front of the safe she'd been directed to break into. Even though he's tech support, Stiles could've made a fairly decent field agent, being trained by his dad his entire life.

Still, he can't fight off five guys by himself for long and it's just as well that she's the agent to find him; she _is_ ranked in the top five.

She's used to fighting with Scott – he's her partner, always has been even after they broke up. They trained together, they learned together, _grew up_ together; she can't imagine anyone else sticking by her side.

But they met Stiles in recruitment. Stiles, who was known by half the agency because of his father and carried the shame of not being a field agent like him with dignity-filled with sarcasm and subtle _fuck yous_ when he scored a few points below the legendary Lydia Martin.

She's also used to maneuvering around him when he crashes at her place or they share the throw rug in Scott's apartment while watching SNL. She's used to teaming up with him in Wii Tennis because they both suck on their own, but manage to be decent when playing together against Scott (they still lose every time). Fighting is just another thing they can team up for and share.

"Thanks," Stiles says, trying to laugh but still out of breath after the last guy goes down.

Allison re-does her ponytail and tries not to stare at his hair, which is starting to grow out.

He catches her and smiles sheepishly, running a hand through it. "Yeah, I know. Weird, right?"

"Scott won't believe me."

His smile turns sad, wistful.

She sighs and drops her arms to her sides. "Stiles, _come home_. We miss you. Scott's a mess without his partner in crime," she says, not knowing why she's trying to smile now, why she's trying to make light of the situation.

He shakes his head, taking a step back. "I can't. I'm – I'm actually _finding_ things out, Allison. I can't go back, not yet."

" _How_ are you finding things out – what are you _doing_ for that information?"

She's _horrified_ by the way his face closes off. "Let me go, Allison, please."

She clenches her jaw and shakes her head. "I can't," she whispers.

The security alarm starts blaring and Stiles is the first to react: he rushes toward her and presses his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry," he says, barely audible over the horn, "I need to find him."

She's about to place her hands on top of his to keep him close, but he leaves before her fingers could brush against him.

**

She doesn't tell Langley but she _does_ tell Scott the night she gets back from Barcelona embarrassingly breaking down into tears.

"I know, I know," Scott murmurs, running a hand through her hair as she cries into his chest. "It's okay."

(It's really not.)

**

Lydia Martin, former tech support of the CIA and current employee of MI6, sends photographs of Stiles meeting with one of the CIA's most wanted for hacking government databases.

" _I'm sorry, Allison, really, but. He's made his choice. It's my job_ ," Lydia says sadly over the phone.

Allison presses her cell phone against her ear until it hurts. She nods. "I know."

" _You can't keep giving him free passes._ "

Allison grits her teeth. "I won't. Not again."

" _Good. I know you put up a good front, but this has been killing you. It needs to end. And if you want to use up the dozens of vacation days you never use, come stay with me in London. I have a new dog and Prada is_ adorable."

Allison's mouth quirks. "Okay."

That night Allison holds Scott as he cries.

**

This rescue mission in China is a fucking disaster: two undercover agents dead, Scott's wrist is broken and he's barely aiming straight with the gun in his left hand and she's lost _her_ gun in the swamp outside the house, so she's touting a damn crossbow that she found in the house (she's never killed someone with a crossbow until today, despite it being her weapon of choice as a teenage girl).

The person they're rescuing is Kira Yukimura, a daughter of a professor who taught in Tokyo, who is well on his way to developing a formula that could do serious technological damage in the wrong hands.

Naturally, everyone – good and bad – wants to get their hands on it. A rising terrorist group based in China was the first to do something about it by kidnapping the daughter from her boarding school in London and leaving a letter and a plane ticket in Professor Yukimura's mailbox.

("Pretty considerate of them to give him a plane ticket," Allison mutters under her breath during the briefing.

Scott eyes her and she winces contritely. It was a Stiles thing to say and she knows it.)

" _I found her!_ "

Allison brings a hand to her earpiece. "Roger that, Alpha Wolf. Proceeding to find Yukimura."

" _Be careful, Athena._ "

Five more goons and breaking down a locked door later, she finds Yukimura standing in front of someone sitting in a chair, fists up ready to defend himself.

She lowers her crossbow with a relieved sigh. "Come on, we need…to…" she trails off, recognizing the hands of the seated figure, one of them holding a pencil with a chewed top; Stiles always had _such_ an oral fixation.

" _Stiles_?" she gasps.

Stiles whips his head from being Yukimura, revealing an ugly black eye, longer hair, but the same smile. "Hey, Allison."

"What are you -?"

"I was Yukimura's assistant. Unwilling, at first, but then," he gestures down to his legs and she realizes one of his legs is in a brace. "I couldn't run away on a broken leg, so."

" _Athena – did you find him? Authorities are on their way._ "

She swallows thickly. Not enough time to get him out. " _Bringing him out now, Alpha Wolf_."

She steps forward and firmly grabs Yukimura's arm to lead him out. "Stiles –"

"Go, seriously. I'll survive."

"The government –"

"I have a connection or two."

She doesn't know if he's lying or not.

" _Athena?_ "

She rips the earpiece out and rushes back to Stiles, hands framing his face, careful to not put pressure near his eye. "Contact me. _Please_. I can't –"

He reaches out to gently pull on her ponytail. "Okay."

She briefly touches her forehead with his and considers kissing him, but that feels too much like a final goodbye. So her fingers trail down his cheeks as she pulls away for good, taking Yukimura out of the house.

She tosses the earpiece out and steps on it. "Can you keep what you just saw quiet?"

"Okay…who was he?"

She swallows again, wincing at the bright sun. "Former CIA. He's better off not mentioned."

**

"What happened to your earpiece I was freaking out!"

"Sorry, there was another guard – took me by surprise and it fell out."

**

A month later, Allison wakes up with a raging headache and Lydia calling her at an ungodly hour.

" _I have bought you a plane ticket and I have procured you a two-week long vacation. Pack a bag and get your ass to London! Your flight is in four hours._ "

Allison hangs up and her head falls back on the pillow.

**

Except as soon as Allison lands in Heathrow, exhausted and stiff, Lydia drags her into a car and takes her into the city, far away from her flat.

"I'm only doing this for you since I like you. I think he's a little shit most of the time," Lydia says the car parks in front of a nondescript hotel. It's nice, respectable, but not too fancy.

"It's owned by MI6. We keep the occasional informant here," Lydia explains, her voice low as she nods at the concierge while heading toward the elevator.

Once inside the elevator, she takes out an ID card and swipes it. The elevator immediately goes up to a high level floor and Allison picks out a hair from her cardigan, suddenly nervous.

"Who are we seeing?" Allison asks when the elevator doors open.

Lydia makes a sound between a sigh and a scoff. "Really, Allison? I know you're not dumb – I don't keep dumb friends."  
 _  
Stiles_.

Allison rushes past Lydia, who has to almost run to catch up with her. "You need _my_ card to open his door," she says, rolling her eyes and swiping her card, inputting a six-digit code.

Allison rushes in and finds Stiles resting on a king-size bed, a bowl of cereal in his lap as he watches TV.

"Lydia, I _know_ you have some pull because you're _you_ , so do you think you can hook me up with…you're not Lydia," Stiles finishes dumbly.

Tears fall out of Allison's eyes before she can stop it, but she's smiling. "You're okay."

Stiles smiles softly. "I did say I'd contact you. Just needed Lydia to work her magic with the Chinese government. Easy Peasy."

Lydia snorts delicately in the corner. "Oh yes, very _easy peasy_. I can't wait for your leg to heal so we can send you back."

Allison carefully wipes her face dry. "Back _where_?"

"Home. I'll probably be in jail for the rest of my life, even though I’m bringing back my dad in relatively one piece –"

"Don't be so sure on the jail thing," Lydia singsongs. "I'll leave you be. But remember – cameras and microphones everywhere."

Allison's jaw drops in indignation. " _Lydia_ –"

"Bye!"

Lydia leaves the hotel room and Allison is left standing dumbly, Stiles' cereal spilling out of his spoon and back into the bowl.

"Hey," he says.

She smiles. "Hi."


End file.
